


lost in the way you move

by quakeriders



Series: feysand tumblr prompt fills [5]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Assertive Feyre Archeron, Canon Compliant, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:04:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18509845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: “Hello, darling.” He purred.Feyre rolled her eyes, shifting so that she was leaning up on her elbows. “You were supposed to be here hours ago, Rhysand. Where were you?”Or: Rhys comes home late and Feyre decided to """punish""" him (honestly its less kinky than it sounds)





	lost in the way you move

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HighLadyOfTheSith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighLadyOfTheSith/gifts).



> title inspo: one kiss - dua lipa

Feyre was lying in bed when Rhys finally entered their bedroom.

It took him a moment to realize that she was wearing nothing but thin scraps of lace and deep red lipstick. When he did, he froze in place, eyes going dark and hungry.

“Hello, darling.” He purred.

Feyre rolled her eyes, shifting so that she was leaning up on her elbows. “You were supposed to be here hours ago, Rhysand. Where were you?”

Her tone made his face shift at once. He seemed to look apologetic. “I forgot.” He muttered quietly, rubbing the back of his neck and took two steps towards the bed.

Feyre sat up fully then, scowling. “ _You forgot?_ ”

“I’m sorry?” He added, sounding hopeful as his eyes travelled over her body, drinking in the sight of bare skin. “Will you allow me to show you how terribly sorry I am?”

Feyre pursed her lips. An idea flooding her mind, she made sure that it didn’t travel down the bond between them. “You can start by taking off your clothes. Slowly.” She added when his fingers rushed to do as she asked.

He slowed, a wicked smirk blooming on his lips.

One by one, he undid the buttons on his shirt, exposing his chest and tattoos for her to drink in. Feyre twisted on the bed, lying on her side and propping her chin on a fist to watch.

Rhys’ shirt landed on the floor softly. He didn’t waste any time before undoing his belt and pants and when he made to pull them and his underwear down in one swift motion, Feyre clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Leave the underwear on.” She said, surprising even herself at how demanding she sounded.

A pulse of wicked delight flashed through their bond and Feyre bit down on her lip to stop a smile from blossoming there.

Rhys pulled off his pants with deliberate slowness, eyes never leaving hers. He had kicked off his boots and socks already and straightened, standing there clad in nothing but his tight, black underpants.

Feyre sat up again, at the edge of the bed and crooked a finger at him. “Come here.”

He obeyed. She could see him straining against the fabric and despite all her plans, she smirked.

Rhys didn’t stop until his legs hit the bed and Feyre had to tilt her head back to look at him. As she did so, her chin brushed over his crotch. He let out a low growl and his hands came up around her face to tangle in her hair.

But Feyre clicked her tongue again and he froze.

“No touching for you, mate, until I tell you to.” She hissed. And then she slid further up the bed and motioned for him to lie down next to her.

He did.

Feyre didn’t move until Rhys was on his back and his face was was turned towards her, eyes glinting with desire.

“Now what, Feyre darling?” He teased and Feyre let out a small snarl at the tone.

In a quick motion, she straddled him. Brushing her hair over one shoulder, she looked down at the hands that had clenched to fists to keep from touching her.

“Good boy.” She said and Rhys huffed out a laugh, quirking up his brow. “Boy? Really?”

But Feyre didn’t bother replying with words. Instead, she ground down on him, causing him to release a hiss of pleasure as she pressed down on his hard cock with all her body weight.

“Fuck, Feyre.” Rhys growled. “Just let me touch you.”

“No.” Feyre replied, a little breathless herself.

She fixed her eyes on him, his pupils blown wide and lips parted and undid her bra with deft fingers. She flung the garment across the room and didn’t bother to look where it landed with a soft thud.

Then she pressed down on him again, shifting her hips to move along his twitching cock.

“I waited  _three_  hours for you to show up.” Feyre told him, conversationally as she worked over him. “I think you should wait at least half that long before I let you touch me.”

Rhys groaned, eyes falling shut and biting on his bottom lip.

Feyre leaned forward, reaching for his wrists and raising both their arms above his head. The new position allowed for more of their bodies to touch and Rhys arched beneath her to get closer still. She could even feel him twisting his face until his lips were brushing against one of her nipples.

She allowed the touch for half a heartbeat before she rose up a little higher, taking his wrists into one of her hands, fingers straining to hold them down.

Then she used her other hand to trail a finger down his arm, his chest and towards the waistband of his underwear.

“Take them off.” She commanded and they disappeared before she had finished the last word.

Rhys let out a groan, louder than the ones before and she pressed against him harder, the silk of her panties now wet and sliding this way and that between their bodies.

She bit down on her tongue in concentration as she slowly shifted her hips, sliding up and down his length, teasing them both until they were panting heavily and Rhys’ body shuddering beneath her.

Rhys’ hands strained against her hold, but she didn’t bother to grip him harder. She could feel the pleasure that was emanating from him like a living, breathing thing. Despite his pouts and groans, she didn’t think he’d ever been turned on as much as this.

And Feyre felt the same way. Seeing him like this, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, back arched and silently begging her for  _more, more, more_  - he had never looked more beautiful.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then the other.

And once he finally opened his eyes, the violet almost completely eaten up by his pupils, she pressed her lips against his own and swallowed the groan that escaped him as her own underwear vanished with half a thought from her.

With nothing between them, Feyre began rotating her hips, using him to push herself over the edge. She was so close and despite wanting to just shift her hips and let him fill her at last, she was determined to drag this out for as long as possible.

“Feyre, please.” Rhys’ voice was guttural, half feral with want and Feyre finally let out a groan of her own. She could feel the pleasure building inside her and knew that Rhys wasn’t far off either, so she just kept moving against him.

Rhys kept up a steady stream of  _please, please, please_  against her lips until she came on top of him. Rhys chocked on a groan as she shuddered, her release washing over her and all she could do was to stop herself from collapsing atop him.

“Now,” Feyre muttered against the crook of neck, letting go of his wrists and gasping for air. “You can touch me, now.”

He didn’t waste any time. His fingers digging into her hips, he lifted her for half a breath before lowering her back down, his cock now sliding into her.

She let out a groan at the pleasant stretch and sank down, down, down until he was filling her so completely that she could barely breathe.

Rhys didn’t wait for her to move. Instead he gripped her a little tighter and began thrusting his hips up, fucking into her with such force that Feyre bit into the soft flesh of his neck, where her face was still buried.

She gripped the sheets to steady herself, letting her teeth dig a little deeper as Rhys growled his approval and pounded into her harder, faster.

And now it was her turn to whisper against his skin, begging him, asking him to give her more, to take more, to fuck her until she couldn’t remember her own name anymore.

She tried to rise up, to move her hips in time with his, but his hands were hard where they held firm and Feyre was too far gone to complain. Rhys flipped them, pressing her back into the soft mattress, kneeling before her and raising her legs up to his shoulders until her back was curled against his abdomen.

His thrusts were harder still and Feyre couldn’t help but scream as he pushed into her again and again until her muscles clenched and her fingers sought for anything to hold onto as the world shifted on its axis.

“Fuck, Rhys.” She moaned, using her feet to pull him closer.

“Come for me, darling.” Rhys’ voice was soft, despite the panting breaths and sweat sliding down his chest.

She did. And moaned a curse so wickedly filthy that Rhys’ rhythm faltered and he too was lost in his pleasure.

They collapsed into the soft pillows on their bed, panting, coming down from the high.

After what felt like an eternity, Feyre finally opened her eyes and took in the sight of her mate.

He was lying on his side, eyes on her face, a slight, smug smile on his face. “If this is my punishment for being late, I might start coming home late more often.”

She tried to scowl at him but failed as a chuckle rasped out of her. “Don’t you dare. The next time, I won’t be this considerate.”

He chuckled, too, and leaned in to press a chaste kiss on her lips. “Despite the mind blowing sex, I really am sorry for making you wait, my love.”

“I know.” Feyre murmured and placed a hand over his waist and pulled him closer.


End file.
